


What Could I Have Done?

by StuckandRunning



Category: My Friend Dahmer (2017)
Genre: Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25155187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuckandRunning/pseuds/StuckandRunning
Summary: After hearing about his old friend's crimes, Derf can't help but think back to his senior year with Jeff and whether or not he could have prevented any of it.
Relationships: Jeffrey Dahmer/John Backderf
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. What have you done?

By the time I hung up the phone and sat back down at the kitchen table, my coffee had gone cold. I wasn't sure what to do with myself. My wife had called me with news that made my heart feel as if it was going to beat out of my chest. I hadn't seen him in years, but there's no way it could be true. All those bodies. The depravity of his crimes. There had to be a mistake. Why was I surprised though? When my wife told me to guess who from my old high school was the suspect, Jeff was my second guess. Second to Figg. If only she had told me it was Figg, I wouldn't have been so unsettled. I mean sure, Jeff was weird. But a murderer? Sitting in silence, I couldn't help but repeat the words in my head: Jeff, what have you done? 

I tried to remember the last thing my wife said. Oh, that's right. A reporter was going to be calling me soon. Did I want to talk to them? Not really, but why wouldn't I? It's not like Jeff and I were close. I cringed momentarily at that. I needed to get into the habit of not using his first name or the reporters might think we were great pals or something. I still couldn't help wondering what I could have done differently in the past. Did I miss something during all of our interactions or was I choosing to ignore all the red flags? No, that's not it. We were just kids.

That moment.

In the car, on the way to the mall. Dahmer sat guzzling down beer as if his life depended on it. He didn't look stressed, but there was an urgency about the way he was drinking. Maybe that was my own unease, but this wasn't normal. I remembered the way his mother looked when Kent and I had gone to pick Dahmer up at his house. Mrs. Dahmer had been hunched over in her seat at the dining room table, groaning miserably as she greeted us curtly, not once looking up. The inside of the house looked dark and ominous compared to the appearance of the outside. I was glad when we left, having felt the tension upon arrival. 

It was hard to keep my focus on the road with the sound of empty beer cans clinking against each other as Dahmer threw one after the other to the floor in the backseat. It was unnerving. Did he normally drink like this? If so, then that's probably where he got his oddball personality. I wasn't sure why, but I couldn't help feeling guilty, taking him out in the state that he was in. I shook that feeling off though. This was just how he got ready to entertain, lowering his inhibitions. It made sense. How else would he be alright with acting like a clown in public? Yeah, he would sometimes act crazy in front of me even without the alcohol, but this was the mall, not school where it was just us and a few friends. It wasn't going to be as easy for him to act up in front of so many strangers. This whole thing was mainly for the guys from school who were willing to pay to watch Dahmer act like a fool. That weird feeling reared its ugly head back up again. Shake it off. Remember, he agreed to do it.

When we entered the mall, it was packed. Perfect. These people wouldn't know what to make of him. Kent was being greeted by the guys from school who wanted to see Dahmer's act. Speaking of Dahmer, I turned to see him struggling not to fall over as he walked. I grimaced a little at how out of it he looked. I didn't think it was possible, but his face looked more expressionless than usual, as if he was purposefully trying to look like a complete robot all while falling over himself. I jogged back to help him out a bit, putting one arm around his shoulder and my other hand flat against his chest to keep him steady. Since he was taller than me, I had to tilt my head up a bit to see his face to make sure he wasn't sick. We made eye contact briefly. This time, instead of the blank expression I was used to seeing, I saw bitterness with a slightly upturned lip and tired eyes. Didn't he want to do this? He puts on this act all the time. So what was that look for? I wanted to ask him if he wanted to back out, but Kent and the group of guys approached us, greeting Dahmer enthusiastically. 

And so, it began. Right in the middle of the mall, Dahmer yelled out, twisting his limbs in odd ways. People stopped and stared at the him. His mouth opened impossibly wide and his hands seemed to vibrate as his body shook in an imitation of a seizure. Shocked gasps began as people became unsure of what they were seeing. To a stranger, he looked like he might be in pain. Our group laughed and hollered as Dahmer stumbled off through the mall. With the way he ran off, I had to laugh too. Momentarily, I thought that I must have just mistook his expression from when I helped him. 

"That was awesome!" Kent Hollered. "But where'd he go?"

"There! HA HA What the hell's he doing?!"

For two hours, we followed Dahmer, watching him disturb the peace. He spat out food samples, screaming "Allergic!" and pretending to choke. He knocked over people's drinks in restaurants and threw things around in retail stores. The guys were entertained a lot longer than I was. I stopped finding it funny very early. In fact, the more I watched Dahmer, the more I could see that I had not been mistaken. I never thought I'd learn to read him, but what no one else was seeing was becoming painfully obvious to me. His demeanor completely changed as he stopped in the middle of the mall where he had started his act. Raising his arms, he yelled with a fatigued voice, "Here I am!" The group continued to holler, thinking he was still acting. He held his head in his hands and teetered slightly. I felt queasy, watching him. What's wrong, Jeff?


	2. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derf didn't have many secrets. That's one thing that made him very different from Dahmer. Dahmer's entire life was plagued with secrets so dark that Derf didn't feel it was his place to discuss it.

I jumped a little at the sound of the phone ringing. I hadn't touched my coffee since I had last been on the phone. Then, I remembered. Oh shit, not now. It hadn't been enough time for me to figure out what to say. I thought about just letting it ring, but I knew my wife would question me if I did that. I was sure it was going to be someone from her work, so at least it wouldn't be a complete stranger questioning me. In my mind, everyone was a stranger to this part of my memory. To the memory of my friend group's mascot. I pick up the phone.

"Hey there, John", a familiar voice. Her tone sounded mindful. Did she think I was in a fragile state or something? I wasn't one of the victims' family members, so it's not like I'd get emotional. Right. The family members. Another reason to not reminisce about Dahmer. 

“Judy?” My voice cracked slightly. I cleared my throat.

There was a small sigh on the other end.

“Yeah”, she said. “Sorry we didn’t give you more time to process everything, but my boss really wants some info on this nutcase that hasn’t already been printed. Pretty much every paper and news station is engrossed in this case.”

I nodded slowly, forgetting that she couldn’t see me. Judy was a friend. I knew how sharp of a reporter she was, so I hoped she wouldn’t read too much into my silence. It’s not like I had anything to hide though. She continued; this time more casual.

“So…is it Ok if I ask you about your experiences with Dahmer in high school? Just anything you could remember. He _was_ in your class. Got any crazy stories about him we could use?”

“Uh, well, we weren’t close. He was kind of the class clown, but there weren’t any clear signs that he could do something as awful as this.”

My throat went dry as I spoke. I felt like I was half lying. We weren’t close though. Sure, there were some things that I noticed that others didn’t seem to, but I always kept my distance. Except, the very few times that I didn’t. There were rare moments of regard, traces of guilt or something else.

“You weren’t friends?”

“Huh?” Her words startled me, but I recovered quickly.

“No. Not at all. Like I said, we weren’t that close. Now, look I, uh… I gotta go. I can answer some questions about it another day. Just not today.”

“Are you alr-” I hung up.

I didn’t know why but I was getting agitated. My palms sweat and my jaw tightened. I couldn't help but feel like it was none of her business, even though it was her job to ask questions. It was my wife’s job too. That didn’t mean I had to talk about it. Whatever happened after high school; Whatever Jeff did. That wasn’t _my_ business. I don't even know the guy. Not anymore.

I leaned against the wall, beside the phone and held my hand to my shoulder. What happened between us in high school had nothing to do with Jeff’s crimes, so whatever tie I had to him back then no longer mattered. Still, I couldn’t ignore the dull ache in my chest, knowing that the monster everyone was talking about was my Jeff. Or the Jeff I knew.

“You weren’t friends?”

Yeah. We were, but his suffering wasn’t funny anymore, so I kept him at a distance.

I should have said that.


End file.
